Chapter 15 Victoria
VICTORIA
PLAYLIST: TIME MACHINE – HVCK FYNN
The motor falls silent in front of my door to the London house. It has been a risky path from the beginning, and while I had hoped it would happen later or not at all, it might be for the better that it happened sooner.
There is a reason why I have sworn off love and romance; it clouds the vision. I could’ve seen it coming, and now I feel an emptiness and anger within me that I would rather not have to deal with. Especially not with the paps lingering in front of the house right now.
“Welcome back,” says Henry when I enter the house and throw the weekender onto the floor. “Rough day?”
“Rough week,” I say. “It’s madness out there.”
“It’s the story of the week,” he says.
“Apparently,” I say. “Did you take care of her security?”
“I did. Miss Phillips returned home safely yesterday, but was quite upset. They followed her way and cleared the area of paps for the least possible impact.”
“Good,” I say. “Keep it up until they lose interest. “
“However,” says Henry, “There has been an incident.”
My heart plummets.
Henry shows me a photo of the building where Mia lives.
I never curse, but right now, I do.
Damn hell.
“Why didn’t we catch it?” I ask, harshly.
“They must have come from the back. We covered the front. No one has seen anything until the neighbours called it in this morning.”
“That is not something done easily,” I say. “How did they miss someone carrying a ladder there?!”
“I don’t know,” Henry says.
“Did you reach the headteacher of her school?” I ask, angrily.
“Yes. He has been reluctant to speak with Bill; his traditional values echo those of several parents. The suspension is already issued, and there will be a disciplinary investigation; he also recommended dismissal to the Governing Body.”
Bastards.
“Anything new on the photographer?”
“Yes,” Henry says hesitantly.
“What is it?” I ask.
“Emiliano sent me the guestlist from that night,” Henry says. “One name stood out.”
“WHO?” I ask.
“Olivia Quinn.”
I close my eyes briefly as my lips thin out.
“I surely would have noticed her”, I say.
“She looks quite different today,” says Henry, and shows me a photo of her. And yes, I wouldn’t have noticed her. Nothing about her resembles the woman who has stalked me all these years. Eventually, it had stopped, right after she had met someone.
“I thought she was in a relationship?”
“She ended it several weeks ago. I talked to the ex, she said it was because of you, because Olivia was so obsessed with you.”
I breathe in and out.
“Have someone shadow Olivia’s every move. Mia will freak, I know it. Shit,” I say. Not because Mia will freak, but because this causes more disruption than I hoped.
“Done,” says Henry.
“Mia needs close protection for the time being. Aside from keeping the paps away, this is more serious than I thought.”
“I already set things in motion,” Henry says. “Bill is also preparing a lawsuit against the media outlets for breach of privacy, defamation, and harassment if they continue to follow her. He said it would come in handy if she were dismissed, talking multiple six figures.”
“I believe her job is more important to her than the money, unless someone talks sense into her,” I say.
“Is that likeable?” he asks.
“She is many beautiful things, but having sense in that department is not part of it,” I say with a sigh.
I do not wish for anyone, not even Henry, to know what has happened at Glenmere. I have never been shouted at and slapped in the face before. My subs would have never dared to try.
But Mia—she doesn’t even know what that word means in its full extent. She just acted, emotionally, mirroring parts of my behaviour. I am also certain she has never set a boundary with anyone about anything, which has led to a complete overreaction.
I spent an entire day in solitude, thinking about it, to get to where I am now. As a dominant, I am used to bringing awareness to my actions before I seek reasons from those who obey me, and I can see my part. I did not prepare her for what her involvement with me might mean or lead to.
I have been blinded. Blinded by emotions. Feelings. For her. That young, emotional woman.
Henry chuckles and says, “I did not have any sense at that age either. Something as beautiful as annoying.”
I draw up an eyebrow.
“Would you like me to order some dinner for you?” he asks to evade the topic.
“No,” I say. “I am in dire need of some sleep.”
“Very well,” he says and takes the bag.
“Wake me if something of relevance happens, we’ll see what the morning brings,” I say when I walk up the stairs.
Morning comes, and I feel very much unrested when I enter the breakfast room, where everything is set as usual.
Henry brings me my tea and a laptop.
“You might wish to read it yourself,” he says and opens the laptop in front of me.
I read through the proposal for Mia’s dismissal, and my face hardens with every line.
“They’re going after her for converting children to radical ideologies—”
“Yes, not unexpected after the reaction of the headteacher. Like I said, very traditional.”
“Call Bill,” I say. “We need public uproar for this, so I want the lawsuit framed for such.”
“Should I also call her?” he asks me.
“She’ll never allow it,” I say.
“And probably never forgive you for it,” he says.
“I would rather have her despise me than have her lose her safe place for the misdeeds of others.” Even if I disagree with her rather mediocre choice of work.
“Tell Bill to go after them,” I say. “Full force.”
Henry nods and withdraws.
The next two days pass, and I head from call to call, speaking to lawyers, calling in favours, and making a case with the Equality and Human Rights Commission within the government.
I am used to dealing with all sorts of media outlets, or rather, my lawyers, but Mia is not, and I do not want her affected anymore.
The farther I get from what happened at Glenmore, the more I see it was all my fault.
I am on a call with my PR-Specialist when I hear shouting outside the door.
Mia.
“I have to call you back,” I say, hang up, and hurry to the entrance hall.
“Where is she?” Mia shouts at Henry in a rage that I have yet to witness. Her face red, her hands aggressively gesturing. “Where?!”
Henry tries to calm the waves, quite unsuccessfully.
“Here,” I say and walk into the entrance hall.
Mia looks at me, murder in her eyes.
“You!” she shouts and walks up to me. “You!”
“What me?” I ask calmly, nodding for Henry to leave. He’ll hear this anyway.
“Haven’t you done enough?” she rounds on me.
“First, that woman vandalising the house, calling me out as a whore—“ Her eyes are shimmering darkly at me with fierceness. “And now you’re going all nuclear with the discrimination thing against my school? I am already in trouble, and my name and face are bloody everywhere in the media from Lands End to John O’Groats!”
Her voice echoes through the entrance hall and resounds quite loudly in my ears, but I let her. Some things need to be out before listening is possible. So, I don’t react any more than looking at her.
I believe it is refreshing to see her recognise her boundaries—something she much needs.
“How do you even know all this! Private letters and notices that were meant for me? How do you happen to infiltrate yourself into everything in my life?” she shouts in, without so much as gasping for air once. “Can’t you bloody stay away from me!”
“Miss Phillips,” I say, “You came here.”
“Stop Miss Phillips-ing me!” she roars. “You shouldn’t know about what they’re trying to charge me with.
No one should! And yet some media outlets want bloody statements on why I decided to go after them with your bloody lawyer and the bloody EHRC and other associations I did not contact, accusing the school of discrimination! ”
“Who contacted you and how?” I ask.
“Why the bloody hell does it matter!?” she shouts so loudly that at this point, the neighbours and everyone on the street outside might hear it.
“Because,” I say silently, “The more they harass you, the more they do to you, the more money we’ll sue out of them.”
“We!” she scoffs out with utmost disgust. “I don’t want the fucking money! You can take your fucking lawyers and fuck the bloody fuck off!”
She stands there, panting, with her chest heaving up and down, a force of nature. Red cheeks, sweat on her forehead, and angrily sparkling eyes.
My eyes wander to her slightly parted lips.
I should not.
I definitely should not.
And yet, I close the space between us, grasp her face and pull her into a feral kiss. She opens her mouth wider, and our lips and tongues meet in a wild embrace.
Her hands demand my body, and I let her. Let her hands massage my breasts, grasp me by the neck, consume me.
I let her, because I desire her.
I find myself pressed against the wall behind me, her thigh pushing between my legs. She rolls her hips against mine, and I cannot stop a smirk from appearing on my face.
“What?” she asks and stops the kiss.
We are both panting heavily, and I brush a strand of her messy hair out of her face and follow my movement with my eyes.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Phillips,” I say as I look back into her eyes. “The real one. The wild one. Messy one. Loud one. The one that takes up space.”
A grin curves her mouth.
“I did yell at you, didn’t I?” she asks with a chuckle.
“It makes you infinitely attractive,” I say. “Come with me.”
I guide her upstairs and into my pleasure room. She giggles when I push her inside.
“Undress,” I say and sit down in the armchair. “Slowly. You’re allowed to look at me.”
She lifts her pullover, pulls it off, slowly. She holds it for a moment and looks at me before it drops to the ground.
She’s wearing a tight top, showing off her hourglass figure. Next, she opens her trousers. Opens them, but does not slide them down.
Instead, she pulls the top over her head first, revealing her wonderful breasts to me.
The top falls to the ground.